


Gotham (The Just When You Think You're Out Remix)

by Medie



Category: Angel: the Series, Batman (Movies - Nolan), DCU
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fusion, Gen, Remix
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-04-23
Updated: 2011-04-23
Packaged: 2017-10-18 13:00:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,785
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/189143
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Medie/pseuds/Medie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"So let me get this straight," Angel says, "Batman got turned into a bat, a woman in fishnets turned him back, and you think your secretary is maybe a demon. That about cover it?"</p>
            </blockquote>





	Gotham (The Just When You Think You're Out Remix)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Beatrice_Otter](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Beatrice_Otter/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Gunn in Gotham](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26098) by [Beatrice_Otter](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Beatrice_Otter/pseuds/Beatrice_Otter). 



"So, uh, we have a little problem."

Gunn remembers day when those words generally meant 'yeah, the world's about to end, Angel's lost his soul, _again_ , and something big and ugly is rising from the tar pits'. These days it's more 'Batman pissed off something big, mean, and magical, and the world's about to end, oops?' so, you know, same old, same old.

"Demon, vampire, or grade A human?"

Gunn stops, looking up at the ceiling. There's a panel missing and he can see one hell of a mess in there. Great. Water damage. Forget the mobsters, demons, and defense attorneys trying to do him in―his office is going to be the one to do the job and probably take his assistant with him. "Kara? Where are you?"

"Behind the filing cabinet."

"I don't want to know why you're back there, do I?" He leans around the filing cabinet where, sure enough, his secretary's on her hands and knees scowling at a dusty pile of files. "Yeah, I don't think I want to know."

"Most likely not," she agrees, passing the files to him, focused more on getting up than the cage in his hand. "Take those." Leaning against the wall, she beats the dust off her pants and then slips out to join him. "Where've you been? I've told enough little white lies to land myself a plum seat in Blackgate."

"Uh, well, that's where the problem comes in." Gunn holds up the cage. "How are you with bats?"

-

The thing about Gotham City is the part where it's _Gotham City_. LA made sense; demons downtown, humans uptown, and a whole seedy underbelly that made the whole thing work. Gotham makes some hell dimensions he's seen look downright respectable.

Gunn's not even sure how he ended up here. Getting out of the hospital after everything went south, he just―left. He's had a few job offers―Central City, Star City, New York, Toronto―but nothing fit. He just kept moving until Gotham...Gotham stops him cold.

Something about Gotham fit, going back to LA's never really crossed his mind. He blows into the city late on Sunday night, ends up in a fleabag motel overlooking the river, and goes uptown on Monday morning for breakfast and the paper.

"I remember you."

Gunn looks over the top of his newspaper―yeah, he's not sure how he ended up a guy that reads the newspaper either―surprised to find a familiar face looking at him. "I remember you," he says, lowering it. "Rachel Dawes, right?"

She nods, "Yeah, you blew a case of mine apart last year."

He remembers that one. Wolfram & Hart'd gotten their money's worth. Thinking about it has him grimacing. "Sorry about that."

"Don't be," she says, smiling. "Gave us a chance to get them on an unrelated charge. You did me a favor, though I'm guessing your bosses wouldn't see it quite that way."

"Wouldn't know," Gunn says, leaning in. "Me and the firm parted ways a while back. Kind of blew out of there in a hurry. Lots of heads rolling, that kind of thing. How about you?"

"It's Gotham City," Rachel laughs. "Any day the defendant doesn't try to bribe, maim, or kill you is a good day."

Gunn taps his paper. "Plus, the local wildlife looks damn entertaining."

She drops her gaze, taking in the blurry picture of Batman with a wry grin. "Well, there is that. I got a suspect gift-wrapped last month. I think it was his idea of a birthday present." There's a wry twist in her voice when she says it, the kind of thing that reminds him of Cordy and his breath cuts sharp with the memory.

Whether Rachel notices or not, she doesn't let on. Instead, she rests her head on her hand and looks at him with a worryingly assessing gaze. "So, you're unemployed, right?"

Gunn knows he should probably run, but hey, it's not like that's ever stopped him before.

-

"Okay, forget my morning," Kara says, taking back her files, "You've been busy." She tips her head, taking in the docile Batman and grins. "If you wanted a pet, my neighbour's dog just had puppies. Though, you do get points for theme. I'm sure the Batman would be touched."

"It's not a pet," he says, "It's—complicated. Listen, you're not afraid of bats, right?"

"Please," Kara says, just a touch derisive. "I grew up in _Bludhaven_. The only animals I'm afraid of have two legs and make a walk through the park somewhat life endangering."

"You grew up in Bludhaven? Seriously? That's the town that Sodom and Gomorrah were too upstanding to associate with." Gunn's eyebrows rise. "Wait a second, if you grew up in Bludhaven, where the hell'd you learn that fancy accent of yours?"

"Wouldn't you like to know," she says, smirking as she holds out her hand and wiggles her fingers. "All right, let's have him."

He hands the cage over, avoiding the way those beady little eyes _scowl_ at him. "Treat him nice, okay? He's one of the good guys."

That earns him a quizzical look before she squints into the cage. "You're about to tell me that this poor little thing is―oh my god, _Gunn_." Her eyes widen. "It's _him_?"

"Yeah," he opens her desk drawer, digging around for the little black book she keeps for occasions just like this. "That's kind of the Batman. See, I found that mage we were looking for. Turns out he's not a mage at all―just using the name for kicks―and he's kind of a demon and, well, Batman did not play by the magical rules."

"Let me guess," Kara sighs, "he doesn't believe in magic."

"He does now," Gunn flicks the cage in her hand, "Don't you, big guy?"

" _No_ ," the bat―er, _Batman_ rasps. "I don't."

"All things considered, sir, you might want to reconsider that particular stance." Kara puts the cage down on the desk. "Now, be a dear and be quiet. I won't be able to pass you off as an ill-advised pet otherwise and give me that." She plucks the book out of Gunn's hand. "You have court. I'll rustle up the necessary assistance."

"Council connections?" he asks, peering over her shoulder until Kara none-too-gently shoves him away with her hip. " _Hey_ , watch it."

She smiles, sweet if you missed the glint in her eye, "Deadly weapons and don't you forget it." Kara sits, Batman on her desk, and starts thumbing through phone numbers, arcane chants, and defunct instructions for the light on the MCU's roof. "And, no, I prefer my own sources."

"Sources?" the Batman squeaks. God, it's going to be hard to take the man seriously from here on out.

"Yes, _sources_ ," she says, halfway glaring at him. "You think you're the only one to ever do this? Some of us just prefer a less theatrical approach."

-

Somewhere back in LA, in what's left of his old office, there's a file on Harvey Dent and all the little secrets about him no one's supposed to know. Wolfram & Hart likes to know their enemies and, sitting in Dent's office, Gunn remembers that file in detail, especially the parts that had really caught their eye. This is probably not going to end well, but that's pretty much how everything goes.

"Rachel's been raving about you since last year," Dent says, grinning. Behind him, Rachel rolls her eyes and Gunn does his best to keep a straight face. He likes her. A lot. It's probably not a good sign of anything, but he's already covered his opinion on good signs."Word is you blew Wolfram and Hart to hell and back before leaving LA."

"There might have been some hard feelings," Gunn says, offering his best 'aw shucks, lil' ol' me?' grin. One he picked up from Fred back in the day and, fuck, he misses being able to think about people without feeling like his heart's shattering into a thousand pieces and then a hundred thousand more. "No, I take that back, there were definitely hard feelings, possible a few bodies, and a whole lot of messiness that you probably wouldn't believe even if I tried to tell you."

"So, if you ended up in court with some of your old acquaintances―I'm guessing it wouldn't go well?"

"They'd try and eat my face," _literally_ , "I might go after them with a battle axe. Generally, there's going to be some unpleasant experiences right before I pound them into legal eagle dust."

"Excellent," Harvey holds out his hand. "I don't know if you hadn't noticed, Mr. Gunn, but in this town? Bringing a battle axe to work is what we like to call good business. So ever give any thought becoming a prosecutor in Gotham?"

"The city where law-abiding attorneys fear to tread?" Gunn checks the urge to grin. "Why not, can't be any more dangerous than my last job."

-

Gunn's not sure about a lot, but he's pretty sure of this one―his secretary's not human. In LA, he'd say demon, but this is Gotham. Gotham's demon population's pretty damn freaky, but tended toward the scaly and isolationist. It's probably something to do with the whole city being bugfuck crazy (and, weird part is, that's a _compliment_ by his standards) but either way, he's guessing not a demon.

Wherever Giles cooked her up, though, Gunn's not complaining. Especially not when dinner's spread out and waiting when he gets back. "Girl, where the hell'd you find this?"

Kara shrugs, shoving the mu shu his way. "I interned at Wayne Enterprises back in the day. Mr. Fox likes take out."

"With a little demonology in his fortune cookies?" Gunn asks, filing the Wayne Enterprises reference away for later. Not much chance they have a magical research section but this is Gotham; it's seen weirder. For all he knows, there's a great little place tucked away in a corner that dispenses magical advice with it's dim sum.

"God, no, that's the Watchers influence." She pauses. "Well, they like to claim that it is."

"And you?"

"Me, I say it's more when in Rome." Kara snags another box, poking through it with her chopsticks. "Right, so, you might want to work on your closing? Demons and vampires are grand fun, but Rupert Thorne waits for no man."

"Don't remind me," Gunn grumbles. "I've got to admire the idea, man, but _seriously_? The entire mob? I thought I was backed up before—at the rate I'm going, I'm never going to see daylight again."

Batman doesn't answer, but Kara laughs. "You love it and you know it," she hops up, stealing the rice as she goes. "Oh, and that reminds me, our little bat problem? I've an expert coming in on the first flight tomorrow morning."

"You are an angel, Kar," Gunn says, tucking back with his dinner. She flips him off as she goes and he waggles his chopsticks in reply, grinning all the while. He kind of loves that woman.

"Got any kung pao?"

"Yeah," he agrees, looking at the cage. "Can you _eat_ that stuff right now?"

"Damned if I know," Batman says. Bruce Wayne or not, he's never not going to think of the Bat as, well, the bat and he's just not going to think about that anymore. Not with the current situation being what it is. "Might as well try."

"Yeah, you've got to eat something." Gunn opens the cage, digging out the kung pao chicken with his other hand. "So, um, was she right? About the whole―" he waves the box in the air. "You know."

Batman side-eyes him. Which, considering his eyes are kind of little and glittery right now, still manages to freak Gunn out. Weird, really. He's grown up around some pretty ugly ass things and a guy in a batsuit gets to him? Damn weird that. "You really think I'm going to tell you?"

Gunn shrugs. "Just passing the time; besides, Kara's freak-ass annoying like that. Girl's got a way of knowing _everything_." He winks. "Should've kept her on."

Batman settles by the chicken, sidling up to the box. "Probably, but you two seem to have a good thing going." He tips his little head, as if considering how to best attack the food before him. "Care to explain that?"

"Yeah, sure, but one thing―you're going to need to give me the magic thing. Otherwise, this story's going to be over real fast. Besides, you're a bat. I think it's about time you cut magic a little slack."

Batman rustles his wings, "Start talking."

-

There's a demon in his new office. Seriously. It's how Gunn meets his secretary and, frankly, he thinks it's kind of perfect. She's standing on a chair, a three-hole punch in one hand and a broom handle in the other, glaring up at the ceiling like it's personally offended three generations of her family.

For the record, she's not the demon. The slimy little what'sit hanging out of the ceiling hissing at her is.

"Bloody menace!" she snaps, whacking at it. "Out!"

"Uh, you'd be Kara, right?"

"Yes, and you'd be Charles Gunn, the new ADA," she smiles prettily over her shoulder, "be with you in a second." Turning around again, she whacks the demon hard and snaps something that, he's pretty sure, sounds like some impressive Latin.

The demon swipes back, but explodes into some seriously rank slime. Most of which ends up all over Kara's very nice white skirt.

"Oops," Gunn says, wincing. "That's—just wrong."

"Par for the course around here," she sighs as he helps her down off the chair. Stinky or no, she's a lady and he was raised right. Alonna would rise from the grave and kick his ass from here to LA and back otherwise. "I'd say it's lovely to meet you, but, well—it might have gone better."

"Oh, I don't know," he says, "A demon infestation's not so bad when your secretary speaks Latin and swings a mean three-hole punch. Not exactly common skills around here."

"Perhaps not, but neither you nor I are from around here, are we?" she lifts an eyebrow. "Wolfram & Hart? Sell any souls lately?"

"Nope, but I stole back my own," he says, laying a hand against his stomach. When he catches himself and looks down, he's surprised not to find blood. "So, I'm going to take a wild guess here: British, speaks Latin, isn't afraid of demons, and know about Wolfram & Hart's extracurriculars—Watcher's Council?"

"We've met," she says, frowning at her skirt in distaste. "Wonder if I can expense this? "

"Probably not," he says, giving it a similar frown, "There's a Goodwill around the corner. Want me to run down there? Pick up something clean?"

"Please," Kara sighs. "You might want to pick up a few things for yourself as well. I'm reasonably sure he has brothers."

Gunn facepalms. "Brothers. Of course."

"Welcome to Gotham, Gunn," Kara says, "Try not to get killed.

-

"Who is she?"

Steph's eyebrows rise, but she's a slayer and her reaction boils down to, "Well, that's new." She looks back at Gunn. "Is that?"

"Yeah, the man himself," Gunn grins. "Well, the bat himself anyway. Batman, this is Stephanie Brown. Steph, this is Batman."

"Charmed," Batman rasp-squeaks. Gunn's not sure how he's pulling that one off, but damn if he's not getting better at it. "Who is she?"

"The reason you're still alive," Gunn passes Stephanie one of the coffees he's carrying. Kara will forgive him―eventually--which is why he hands her one of the sandwiches too. "Steph's the slayer assigned to Gotham and you've been keeping her pretty busy most nights. Just about every vampire in town wants to make bones off you."

"They'd never believe it now," Steph sits down with her prize, unwrapping the sandwich. She's sporting a bruise on her cheekbone and a cut is peeking out from beneath her collar. "Stop it, Charles."

"I am allowed a little mother-hen time, Steph. Things ramping up out there?"

"Not pre-Bat levels, no," Steph says, picking at the sandwich. "But it's not good. I'm guessing this is why. Also why I got the 911?"

"Yeah, we've got somebody on this, but it's taking some time. I was thinking―"

" _Absolutely not_ ," Batman snaps. "She―"

"Is a _slayer_ ," Gunn says, sharing a grin with Stephanie. "She can take you in a fight blindfolded and with one hand tied behind her back. Comes with the territory or did you miss the part about her saving your ass like a whole hell of a lot?"

"It's the dust," Stephanie says, playing at mournful. "Vampires clean up after themselves. I get no respect."

"At least among the living," Gunn says. "The fanged set are pretty damn respectful."

"When they aren't trying to kill me," Stephanie nods. "So, I'm doing the Batman gig for a while?" She makes a face. "I'm going to need a mask or something."

"Talk to Kara," Gunn says, "She probably knows a guy."

"If she doesn't," Batman says, somehow making a raspy-squeak sound _grudging_ , "I do."

-

Harvey's dead. Rachel's gone. The office is in shambles and Gunn can't remember the last time he slept. It's crazy and everyone's running scared. Gunn takes to sleeping at the office, surrounded by day-old coffee and empty Chinese boxes. Kara's never far from his side, marshalling the support staff with the kind of terrifying efficiency that keeps him hopping.

Seriously, he's starting to think the woman isn't human.

"It's a British thing, right?" he asks, three days in while she's manning the glorified tv table she calls a desk, rescheduling hearings and a half-dozen other appointments that come with the legacy of Harvey and the Commissioner's grand plan to end organized crime in Gotham. "Because you're starting to scare me with the efficiency."

"No, it's a survival mechanism," Kara replies, not looking up from her computer. "Otherwise, the paperwork takes over the office, develops sentience, and eats the city in a sans serif induced homicidal rage."

"You've got issues, you know that?"

She's rolling her eyes when she turns around, but she's smiling so he's not going to be buying her flowers for a month or anything. He hopes. "Naturally, I willingly work on the side of truth and justice in a city where a fondness for either tends to land one in the east river."

"Point," Gunn says, leaning on his forearms. "Especially about the paperwork." He has a desk, but with the files piled on top of it, you'd never know. "How'd I get this job again?'

"You're the newest hire, with the most experience," Kara says, getting down on the floor to dig through yet another box. "No one knows you and no one's had a chance to buy you yet. Commissioner Gordon and the Mayor think you're the safest bet." She chews her lip. "Assuming you live long enough."

"Thanks for the vote of confidence," he says, but he's grinning. "We are so completely screwed, you know that, right?"

"Oh please," Kara snorts, "has Satan risen to take over the world yet? No, so there's still some distance left to fall."

"You joke," he says, getting up. He has a meeting with the mayor and in thirty seconds she's going to be drop-kicking him out of the office anyway, "but if that happens? I am so blaming you."

She hands him a file and closes the box. "Smile for the mayor and swear you've had no contact with the Batman."

"Well, that'll be easy since I haven't."

Kara smiles. "Pick up coffee on the way back, the machine's on the fritz again."

"I _haven't_ ," Gunn insists, but she's already pushing him out the door.

-

"That woman is _not_ Council," Gunn hisses, taking in the fishnets and top hat.

"No, she isn't," Kara says, tucking her chin. "Zatanna is, however, an expert in transfiguration." She tucks a hair behind her ear, "And she's familiar with the man who cast the spell initially. It should help in fixing it."

She picks up a box, putting it in Gunn's hands. "Now let the woman work, hmm? You're supposed to be helping me."

"She's wearing _fishnets_ , Kara. She's a _magician_. A magician who does _birthday parties_."

Kara grins. "And you're a prosecutor who spends his nights helping a vampire slayer rid the city of demons, vampires, and the odd demigod. A metaphor about pots and kettles would probably be timely."

"But?"

She picks up a box of her own. "We have work to do."

"Seriously, fishnets? Parties?"

"Girl has to make a living somehow," Zatanna says. She's sitting next to the cage with a tome balanced on her knees, leafing through the pages with a thoughtful frown on her face. Batman's out of the cage at present, perched on her hat, staring down at the book as well. "Surprisingly, arcane magic and rituals do not pay the bills."

"Some of it does," Gunn says. "Pretty damn well too."

"Not the kind I practice," Zatanna says. She hums, tapping one finger against the book. "Here we are."

"Can you fix me?" Batman asks.

"I think so," she says. "Word of advice? The circle is there for a reason. _Don't cross it_."

"Not a believer," Gunn says, heading for the door. His arms feel like lead and his legs feel worse. He's tired. Exhausted. Between the day to day, the patrols, and their little bat problem, sleep's been hard to come by."Trust me, we've been down that road." He turns around. "Put a rush on it, okay? They need him out there. We've got a Slayer covering, but she can't keep it up forever." He yawns and blinks away the grit in his eyes. God, he misses sleep."She's not the only one."

"More coffee?" Kara asks, following him out the door.

"Yeah, know anything about IV drips? Cause I'm about ready for a caffeine one."

-

"Kara is so fired."

Pushing up, Gunn looks around the makeshift temple. The Batman is nowhere to be seen, the mage that had brought them both there is a crumpled wreck on the floor, and the whole place is in shambles.

"Shit," Gunn says. Hard to believe a few hours ago he'd been sitting in the Mayor's office, hashing out strategy with him and Commissioner Gordon, everyone trying to figure out what the hell they were going to do with the Joker still on the loose. He and Gordon had been pretty confident. They had the Batman after all.

Now...

"You said it."

"You have got to me kidding me," Gunn pushes up the rest of way, taking in the sight of the tiny bat flapping about on the floor. The bat that had sounded a lot like, well, the Bat. "Man, the circle is there for a _reason_."

Batman makes a squeaking sound that's probably supposed to be a snort. "Magic isn't real."

"Says the guy who just got turned into a bat." Gunn bends over to pick him up. "For the record, this is not how I imagined meeting you." He shakes his head. "You're just lucky I've seen worse than this."

"Worse?"

"Ever watch the Muppets?"

"Mercifully, no."

"Yeah, well, for a while, my last boss looked like the Count's twin brother."

"That's Sesame Street.."

"I'm going to pretend you didn't just say that," Gunn holds onto the Batman with one hand, digging for his cell with the other. This is not what he had in mind when he came to Gotham. No demon hunting, no vampire slaying, nothing of the hinky and weird. Even if his body could keep up, he's just about half enough of it. Running down the guy on the floor was supposed to be a favor for Steph. See if he ever does her another favor ever again. "Seriously." Montoya's going to rip him a new one when he asks her to clean this up, but it could be worse.

That's nothing compared to what the Commissioner is going to do if he finds out.

-

"So let me get this straight," Angel says, "Batman got turned into a bat, a woman in fishnets turned him back, and you think your secretary is maybe a demon. That about cover it?"

"Homicidal clowns and district attorneys with serious dark sides, oh, and the demons in the ceiling. Like rats apparently, but with slime." Gunn tosses a paper ball in the direction of the waste basket. It rebounds off the wall and still misses by about a mile. "Also I seem to have ended up interim district attorney."

Angel's silent for a moment. "Huh."

"Yeah, that about covers it."

"But it's good, right? I mean, you're good and everything?" There's genuine concern in Angel's voice and it's good, really good, to hear. Gunn bites his cheek against the urge to ask about the others. Spike, Illyria, the Host, he wants to know, but he's not going to ask. He's afraid of the answers and as long as he doesn't ask, he doesn't have to know.

"Yeah, I think I just might be," Gunn says. He sits up. "Uh, I've got to go. I've got a meeting."

"A friend of yours?"

"The ex-Muppet." Gunn turns around, facing the Batman outside his window. "You should probably come inside."

Batman shakes his head. "It's better this way."

Gunn gets it. "You know this isn't going to work, right? The thing with Dent?"

"It has to," Batman says. Funny, but Gunn thinks it was maybe easier to read the guy when he was actually a bat and that's just so many shades of fucked that he doesn't want to spend much time thinking about it. Most of his life falls into that category, really, which is complicated and another thing he doesn't want to think about much. "People need a symbol to believe in; they need a hero."

"Newsflash, they've got one."

"It can't be me."

"Heard that one before." Gunn laughs. "Where I grew up? Harvey Dent wouldn't last five minutes. If the dealers and the gangs weren't bad enough, we had the vampires and demons lurking around every corner looking for a snack. Newsflash, Bats, the world's got plenty of symbols. We need people like you, Steph, Kara—"

"—you."

Gunn shrugs. "Yeah, maybe once. These days I restrict my fights to a courtroom. Either way, they're going to find out the truth. The answers are there if you look for them." He pauses, then adds with a small smirk. "Speaking of, tell Mr. Fox thanks. Stephanie loves the new suit." Yeah, it's petty, but he takes his victories where he can find them.

Batman nods. "This conversation isn't over."

"Yes, it is. I'm not looking to be a symbol anymore than you are."

He can't swear to it, but Gunn thinks, maybe, that one makes Batman smile. "Then I guess we're both out of luck."

"Yeah, well, story of my life." Gunn turns around. "Word of advice, leave the magical stuff to Step—" He looks up at Kara in the doorway. "He's gone, isn't he?"

She nods.

"How is this my life?"

"Demonic curse, most likely."

Gunn closes his eyes, listening to her shut the door and walk across the room. It's a slow journey, there's still boxes covering very spare inch of the office floor. He's got a lot of cases to get up to speed on. It's a good thing he doesn't miss daylight much anymore, because he's not going to be seeing it ever, ever again. "Just for the record," he says, pinching the bridge of his nose. "You're not a demon, right?"

"Absolutely not," she says, laughing. "Demons are terrestrial."

"Aw shit, my secretary's an _alien_?"

"Actually, we prefer to be called administrative assistants."

Gunn sighs. "I hate my life. I hate my life so much."

"Of course, now if you'd be ever so kind as to hate it while on your way to the elevator, that'd be grand. You have court in an hour and traffic this time of day is going to be murder. Which, as you know in this city, just might be literal." Kara flicks his forehead until he opens his eyes. She hands Gunn his coat and smiles. "Relax, I've absolutely no plans toward world domination or eating your brains."

"S'good," Gunn shrugs into his coat. "I burned out the last brain cell about two hours ago."

"Excellent, then you're well prepared to deal with life as a civil servant." Kara steps back. "Now get going. I'll unpack and possibly call Zatanna. I think my office is haunted."

"But there's nothing in the ceiling, right?"

"Not as of yet."

"Small victories, Kara. Small victories."


End file.
